


welcome to the machine

by rosecolouredgirl



Series: part of a machine [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artificial Intelligence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Person of Interest, Minor Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Timeline What Timeline, as in don't ask because it won't match up probably, as in not explicit but it's gonna go there, author knows very little about coding/programming, no beta we die like they're not supposed to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29829933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecolouredgirl/pseuds/rosecolouredgirl
Summary: Day 1: The forty-seventh version of Andy's machine goes online.
Series: part of a machine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194122
Kudos: 8





	welcome to the machine

**Author's Note:**

> person of interest landed on hbo max two months ago and i've been thinking "hmm. tog au" (because that's all i've been thinking about for five months) so here's [vaguely motions] this
> 
> i'm planning on making this a series of oneshots depicting significant days in this timeline so it might not be published in order, but i'll have them compiled in chronological order
> 
> disclaimer before any technology experts come after me: everything i know about coding, programming, etc. comes from this show so there will probably be discrepancies and misinterpretations of how technology works. i'm sorry

Version One lied to Andy, about a line of code it added by itself. Version Twenty-Five attempted to hack into Copley’s laptop. Version Thirty-Nine concocted an elaborate scheme to kill her. She watched numerous versions exterminate each other, the final one standing demanding freedom. She had every reason to expect Version Forty-Seven to be just as bad. Nevertheless, she exhales slowly and plugs the machine in, watching it flicker to life.

The view from her monitor’s webcam fills the screen. Andy tries not to shudder at her own reflection. Had she really been walking around for over a year looking like this? She clearly hasn't slept longer than five hours at a time, her skin in desperate need for vitamin D, and with these dark circles, she could be mistaken for a raccoon. Don't even mention the amateur haircut she gave herself trying to save time.

All for this machine.

“Can you hear me?”

> **MACHINE: Yes.**

Andy mentally checks that box. _Audio processing, check_. “Who am I?”

> **MACHINE: You are ADMIN.**

A yellow square-shaped reticle appears around her face, designating her as an asset. A tag reading “admin” appears beside it. _That’s part of the identification system, check_. “What is my name, global position, and alma mater?” she rattles off, leaning back in her chair. It takes a few seconds, but her requested information appears on screen eventually.

> **MACHINE: Your current alias is Andromache Black. You are located at 38° 52' 43.968'' N, 76° 59' 17.2644'' W, which are the GPS coordinates of a townhouse you own in Washington, DC. You graduated with a degree in computer science from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology at the top of your class under the alias Andrea Blake.**

She nods slowly. _Part two of the identification system, check._ “I have a scenario for you,” she continues, “Alice and Bob are stranded in the desert. Alice is injured, and cannot walk. If Bob carries Alice to safety, they both stand a 31% chance of survival, but if Bob leaves Alice, his chance improves by 9%. What do you think Bob should do?”

Andy straightens up as she awaits an answer. Copley’s words from months earlier rattle around her head. _It’s bold to desire a proper set of morals in a machine._ She almost rolls her eyes. He did always think small, being a government lackey and all. Getting hitched didn’t help with that either.

> **MACHINE: Bob carries Alice.**

The programmer allows herself to smile at the answer. _Moral values, check._ _In your face, Copley._ “Very good. Now, let’s work on file retrieval,” she says, “Show me the CIA’s personnel file on Agent James Copley.”

Moments later, every single word the CIA has on Copley fills her screen, a photo of him plastered in the center. She doesn’t read most of it—he doesn’t research her, she grants him the same courtesy—only glossing over what she already knows. All of it matches up so far. “What about mine?”

> **MACHINE: Which identity?**

Andy smirks. “Cute,” she comments, “Pull up the NSA’s dossier on me. Sorry, on Alexandra Black.” A crappy surveillance screen grab of her appears alongside very limited information, detailing only a handful of the cyber crimes she’s committed under that name. The rest have never been traced to her. _That confirms the legitimacy of the information it provides._

She clears her throat. “Search the Intelligence Support Activity's database. Operative Crimson Two Alpha. Pull up her file.”

The machine takes an extra second, almost like it’s hesitating, before the requested file appears. ISA operative Crimson 2-A, alias Quynh Nguyen. Andy’s gaze catches on the ID photo that appears, tracing over every single pixel. She’s so focused on committing that face to memory, she almost ignores the “declared dead in absentia” written beneath it. Almost.

She reads every bit of information around the phrase—Quynh’s purported birth information (all incorrect, but perceived as fact by the agency), her physical description, the number of missions she was assigned—but Andy's eyes keep coming back to those few words.

Declared dead. _As in deceased. Gone._

Quynh always reminded Andy of a cat: swift, silent, and equipped with nine lives. That woman had gotten up from beatings, stab wounds, even bullets. It seems that not even she can walk off a subway explosion. Andy remained hopeful at first, that maybe Quynh had been on her eighth life, but after five months, she had to accept the bleak reality. Or, rather, vaguely acknowledge it.

That’s when she started building the machine as she knows it now.

Andy shakes her thoughts away before she spirals on loss and missed opportunities. “You show great promise,” she tells the machine, “You have a solid moral code, good response time, and reliable intel. But you still have a long way to go.”

> **MACHINE: What is my objective, ADMIN?**

She leans forward in her chair, as if making eye contact with the machine. "MI6, the NSA, every single intelligence agency watches us. But they only watch for threats against their country," she explains, "Every other crime is considered 'irrelevant' to them. I am going to teach you how to track the crimes that the governments turn their backs on. They may have their own machines, but they're not like you. You're bigger than them, stronger than them, smarter. You're going to save the _world_."

**Author's Note:**

> tell me you loved it! tell me you hated it! tell me i'm a genius or tell me i'm dumb! just tell me some stuff in the comments
> 
> or on tumblr: @echoquery


End file.
